


Prodigal

by STABrielle (Zyrielle)



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Insights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:02:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22572196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyrielle/pseuds/STABrielle
Summary: Vergil coming to terms with his human side: shame, epiphanies, as V mourning and finally acceptance of that side that he's rejected all these years.
Relationships: Dante & Nero & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Kudos: 8
Collections: INVICTUS Zine





	Prodigal

The boy on the ground stirs awake to the fast and heavy thuds that rattle the ground _.  
_

_They’re here._

Grey eyes squint open. It's dark, but there's a bright orange blaze and embers dancing in the night sky.

A scream pierces the night and his blood runs cold.

_Mother!_

He tries to get up. The acrid smell of his own blood and smoke stink up the air.

There’s also a rank smell of things that should not be, things that should remain dead in hell.

The screaming continues. His limbs burn as he forces himself to move. The effort tears open mending flesh and pushes more blood from his wounds. The shattered bones in his legs make it difficult to get up. He grits his teeth until he tastes rust on his tongue. 

_I will heal_ , _mother won't._

" _Ssssparda, where is he?"_

A voice sears through his brain along with a white-hot pain that renders him a broken heap on the ground.

His arms wrap around his head, a futile attempt to block out the demon speaking to him.

"He's not here." He whimpers.

The voice hisses once again.

_"Abandoned his humans, has he?"_

"No, he-"

_"That witch said nothing, broke so eassssilyyyyy..."_

_Mother_! 

His heart stops. He hadn't noticed her screaming had ceased.

_"Taaake himmm."_

Vergil barely has time to react before everything turns black once more.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Years. It had taken him years to get over them; the fear and worry of what had happened to his mother and brother, and the pain of the physical, mental, and emotional abuse he experienced under the hands of his abductors.

They called him human, weak, and he believed them. 

He hated his frailty and cursed his own roots as he licked his wounds.

Oh, how it frustrated him to be at the mercy of anything, to be reminded of his own frailty and inability to fight. But his anger was directed inwards, at himself for lacking strength.

Demons respected and obeyed power, and he desired it.

These demons spoke almost reverently of his father, in equal measures of fear and hate for the power he once possessed, the feats he accomplished. Sparda became the standard Vergil swore to overcome. He vowed he would surpass his father by undoing his work and crush those who ever hurt him or got in his way. 

And thus, everything that made him weak and vulnerable - his memories, feelings and thoughts, these had to go. That part of him didn’t exist anymore, as far as he was concerned. 

_The weak are eaten up by the strong, this is Nature._

_Humans are among the weakest of the weak._

_This is why Mother died._

_She was weak, breakable, so were we. So was I._

_Father left us because..._

He embraced his demon side. It was insatiable, always wanting more, a monster of blue flame, a conniving and destructive creature. Embracing the fire, he let the flames consume him, warping and changing his entire being into something not human.

All the while, his human side was shunned like a shameful secret, a disease. But it was always there, a constant presence slowly gnawing at the edge of his consciousness. It was like a fly on the wall in a spacious room that was filled with all sorts of noise that was his demon. He heard it's buzzing every now and then, but couldn’t catch or kill the source. 

The first time he lost to Dante the buzzing grew unbearably loud, and he chose to fall into the demon world. 

It refused to leave him since then, even as he hunted down the Demon King Mundus. 

When he became Mundus’ puppet, the buzzing had become a voice and was his only company in the prison of his mind. 

He thought he would die at the hands of his brother and welcomed death. It would have been a fitting end to all the guilt and hatred and anger he’d held on to for so long. But it was only another defeat to suffer, a reminder that Dante had not only beaten him, but Mundus as well. The only thing Vergil had left was his crumbling physical body, to be plagued by his failures for years to come. 

The buzzing in his head had started like a breeze, soft and gentle, barely noticeable against the organized chaos that was his own thoughts and the rumbling of his demon. But now that his doubts and frustrations were at their highest, with exhaustion and pain constantly draining him, the voice was loud, sharp, and crystal clear like lightning in a storm.

Coming to terms with it felt like being trapped at the bottom of an empty pool slowly filling up with water; with countless streams of events trickling in, most few and far between that each one was too small to be noticeable alone; events involving his brother fed the pool like a tidal wave. Everything was slowly filling the space all around, soaking and weighing him down until he was drowning in it, his humanity, shame and self-loathing.

Again his hatred was directed inwards, at himself for lacking the strength to overpower this, to win.

Oh, how he'd tried to silence this voice, to escape it, even going as far as to cut his humanity free of his physical self as if it were some diseased limb or a cancer.

_There's no other way._

Removing it felt like ripping his heart out, and in a way, it was. But the pain was gone, and that was all that mattered.

Urizen saw V as waste, a pestilence-carrying bug that would die on its own soon enough.

But even as a rejected and discarded human being, V was tenacious.

Urizen knew that facing off with Dante was inevitable. He expected it. 

What he hadn't expected was to suffer defeat once again despite consuming the fruit that guaranteed him ultimate power.

That V was the one who came to deliver the finishing blow felt like vindication.

When the cane plunged into his core, a veil was lifted and only then did he truly see V for who and what he truly was.

V was the sunrise, lighting up the sky that was as black and blind as his hatred for his human side. With what short time he had, V developed a sense of self and perspective on everything Vergil avoided, all the things he never wanted to face but fate would not let him forget.

V changed everything.

_‘Of course, it was you who brought this about. It's always been you.’_ He thought to himself. 

He wanted to be angry, but could not find the strength or motivation to be so, the well of hatred had dried up.

Right from the very beginning, the human within had always been fighting, wanting to live.

How could Vergil ever win? Even as a pure demon, he could not beat the odds that stood against him.

How dare this human, barely able to walk anymore, gasping and crumbling as he was, at the verge of his own death, demand another chance at life? How did it come to be that Urizen, the all-powerful being he had always strived to become, was again at the throes of defeat, on the ground with his discarded self looming above?

It was moments like these when he hated himself the most. He had been on his knees time and time again, broken and defeated at the feet of his adversaries. Only this time, his enemy was himself.

He was back there again. He could taste and smell the smoke and blood, hear her screams in the distance.

His eyes stung.

_No. Not now. Please._

But V was there, shaking like a twig in the wind, unafraid. Cane in hand, he aimed straight for his heart and Urizen could no longer escape.

" _I know... we're one in the same you and I. You've lost me, and I've lost you. Yet we are connected by that one feeling. 'While thy branches mix with mine, and our roots together join_.'"

The cane sank into his chest, and everything came crashing down.

It was him, always him, the force in Vergil that was always fighting to live, that which pushed him to run, to flee and live instead of fighting to the death.

Vergil pursued power, but it was this voice that truly gave him the strength to survive the ordeals he put himself through again and again.

Perhaps the real reason why he lost against Dante as Urizen was his human side after all. It was his absence, the fact that Vergil was not whole. 

Truly, the only time he was not beaten within an inch of his life by Dante was when he was both human and demon, when he had chosen to fall to hell.

Neither Nelo Angelo nor Urizen stood a snowball's chance in hell.

_Mother..._

Shame washed over him as he realized just how foolish he was. He had been acting like a petulant child all this time. Everything he had done, it was all for naught.

Even years and years after she was gone, she protected him still. That human side which she nurtured in him, that he got from her was fighting so hard to keep his heart alive and beating.

Vergil never had the chance to mourn her, but perhaps he had been mourning her all this time. 

Relief, or more like the absence of pain was what he felt upon opening his eyes. He was once again whole. There was no voice or distorted static in his head. The noise was gone, shattered like a mirror.

In its place was clarity, a familiar feeling, like coming home. It was not an answer or a fix-all, but what he had was a quiet strength, unlike anything before. He did not doubt it, nor did he feel the need to pursue more.

He sees V’s book - his old book on the ground and picks it up

Dante is understandably and rightfully angry with him and lunges an attack at him. 

_How nostalgic.._

His twin brother looks older, exhausted, and very much beaten up by his recent battles. 

"Defeating you like this has no meaning." Vergil says, thinking out loud to himself, rather than to Dante. 

"C'mon Vergil, let's do this." His twin grits out.

_Just like old times._

There was a familiar person behind Dante. The Yamato was gravitating towards this third person, similar to the way it did with Vergil.

_Who is he?_

_'His name is...'_ memories that were not entirely his flash in his mind. 

Urizen would have just cut Dante down then and there, but Vergil isn't ’just a demon anymore. 

So instead he turns around and takes his leave. 

"Heal your wounds, Dante. Get strong. After that, we'll settle the matter."

  
He turns towards the human boy that helped him find his way back and says,

  
"Thank you, Nero."

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to this beautiful Zine. I love Vergil and the rest of the guys so much I can’t even. 
> 
> Thank you to Copper Wasp and the rest of the gang for being so supportive.
> 
> Thanks to Kimbi and Hanners. 
> 
> I hope you like it. 
> 
> :)


End file.
